Flour
by Imagodownwiththisship
Summary: Iris tries to bake a cake for her dad's birthday. It doesn't turn out as planned. Barry saves the day. Hella domestic. Part 3 of The Baking Series.


**A/N: I don't own anything. God I love some good domestic fluff.**

"Barry? Can you help me? I think I might've destroyed the kitchen," Iris shouted.

"Coming," Barry yelled, jogging through the hallway of the apartment they shared. Currently, Iris was trying to bake her father a cake for his birthday, and even though Barry had tried to help her, his girlfriend insisted that she could handle it.

When Barry walked into the room, he found frosting splattered on the walls, and batter covering all of the countertops.

"Oh, Iris," Barry said in pity.

"I can fix this," Iris insisted, pacing with a spatula in her hand.

"Or," Barry countered. "We could just buy a cake for your dad. I'm sure Joe wouldn't mind. Plus we could pick up those bagels he really likes too."

Iris suddenly whipped around, the once innocent spatula in her hand now a weapon seemingly capable of mass destruction. "No! I'll make this cake _by myself_ if it's the last thing I do."

Barry backed away in fear. "Alright. I'll, uh, be here if you need me. But first, we haven't gone grocery shopping in a while. I swear I won't buy a cake," he added quickly as Iris flashed him a death glare.

"Fine. I'll be in here. Making a perfect cheesecake," Iris snapped. He had only seen her like this one other time, when Joe had mistakenly put her in charge of Thanksgiving dinner.

She stalked off to the refrigerator, muttering about whipped cream and whisking until soft peaks had formed, while Barry fled the apartment as quickly as socially acceptable.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later he returned laden with plastic shopping bags. Instead of seeing frosting on the ceiling and an even angrier Iris like he had been expecting, his girlfriend was glumly hunched over the kitchen counter, twisting her spatula in circles.

"Hey," he started. "You okay?"

She reluctantly lifted her head. "Yeah. Sorry for being a bitch earlier."

"Don't worry about it," Barry smiled. "Hey, I have something to cheer you up."

Iris raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?"

Barry pulled out a bag of flour from the groceries at his feet. "Flour! Because, you know, it's baking related, and it also has the same sound as the word "flower", which, you know, is a typical gift, so-"

She laughed, accepting the gift and grabbing her boyfriend by the shoulders. "Thanks Barry."

His expression shifted from comical to serious. "But I did get you a real present."

He pulled a bouquet of purple flowers out from behind him.

"Awww," Iris smiled, pulling Barry in for a hug. "That's so sweet."

She lifted the flowers up to her nose to smell, then stepped back.

"Wait," she said suspiciously. "Are these irises?"

Barry didn't meet her eyes. "Possibly?" He said quietly, his answer more of a question than a statement.

Iris rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Of course you did. You and your puns, Barry Allen."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm Barry delightful."

She lightly punched him on the shoulder, laughing all the same. "Oh my god, stop."

Barry lifted his hands up in surrender. "Fine. This is a pun-free zone from now on."

She giggled back. "Good."

"But," he continued. "We do have a cake to finish." He began pulling baking supplies from the bags-sugar, butter, more flour.

Iris noticed the sugar. "This is the reason why we met," she reminisced, grabbing it and hugging it to her chest.

Barry grinned. "I still remember that clearly." He winced. "And my ranting."

"Aw, cheer up Barry. That ranting is the reason you got a date."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Wait, really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course. It was so adorable."

Barry smiled self-consciously. "My only flirting weapon."

Iris dragged him closer. "Of course not! You got the girl in the end didn't you? Do you want me to list every single amazing quality you have?" She laughed. "Because I definitely can."

Barry shrugged non-committedly. "Wouldn't hurt."

"Okay, Mr. Allen." Iris hooked her arms around his neck. "Let's start with your kindness. You can't walk by a person who needs help without coming to their rescue. Remember when you gave that guy on the street money even though it was clearly a scam?"

He smiled fondly. "I gave him $20 for a pair of front-row Hamilton tickets. I think I still have those things somewhere, actually," he mused, turning his head around. Iris pulled him forward again.

"Anyway, he needed the money and you gave it to him without hesitation," she concluded. "Moving on. You see the best in people. You're the most optimistic person I know, and it's one of the many reasons why I love you."

Barry could feel the blush creeping up his neck. Iris smirked and pecked him on the cheek.

"Lastly-okay you don't only have three good traits," she laughed as Barry gave her a playfully offended look. "But we seriously need to bake this cake-you're selfless. You'd do anything for the people you love, including camping outside a book store all night and missing work to get a signed copy of Harry Potter for me. I still can't thank you enough for that, by the way," Iris added, looking at him sincerely.

"Anytime," he said affectionately. "I'd do anything for you, Iris."

"I know. Which also makes you really annoying, sometimes," she rolled her eyes, referring to the time Barry had jumped the fence at a baseball game to get her a signed mitt from her favorite player.

"My point is, Barry, that you are a much better person than you think you are. And I'm glad I got to see that before any other girl did," Iris added determinedly.

Barry placed his hand on his chest in shock. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when Iris West is _jealous_."

She slapped him lightly. "Ha. Very funny. But we really have to bake this cake now."

Barry hurriedly stood up. "Agreed."

Together they began grabbing bowls and measuring cups, Barry handling the ingredients while Iris read the instructions.

* * *

Several hours later they had a large birthday cake with vanilla frosting. Barry was carefully writing on the top of the cake with icing.

His girlfriend leaned over to inspect his work. "Your handwriting looks so girly my dad's going to think I did that. Kidding," she joked, placing her hand over his own. "It looks fantastic, Barry. Thank you."

He stepped back to examine the cake. "What can I say? I do my Barry best for the people I care about."

Iris stepped forward and forcefully locked her lips against his own. "No more puns," she said breathlessly after pulling away.

He nodded eagerly. "Yes ma'am."

 **A/N: Guys should I continue the series? Also do you know how hard it is to write puns? You won't know until you tried. Sorry to the grammar nazis I didn't put the long dashes in this fic. Using a weird keyboard. Sue me.**


End file.
